


Fragmented

by Beanwhile



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Experimental Style, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-05
Updated: 2014-04-05
Packaged: 2018-01-18 06:08:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1417924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beanwhile/pseuds/Beanwhile
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are some aspects of their relationship that are perhaps repetitive but Aredian is very fond of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fragmented

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aconite (aconite_fic)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aconite_fic/gifts).



> This is highly experimental, mostly in terms of punctuation and at times - syntax.

                There are some aspects of their relationship that are perhaps repetitive but Aredian is very fond of them.

                The way Cenred always stands between him and the front door; he never trails behind. There is a nice contrast between Cenred's leather jacket and the big black door. Aredian always wants to push Cenred against it, see the colours together, but for the neighbours.

                The way Cenred feels at home in his home; appreciates the space, makes himself comfortable with his stupid little smile. Aredian likes it still because it shares his appreciation of self-set boundaries by walls.

                The way Cenred removes clothes like he is an offering at Aredian's feet, the way he removes clothes like Aredian is a precious gift to him. Seldom are they gentle but when they are - skin is shy at first, then gradually reveals itself for the touch, and they can't keep their palms off it.

                Here is his descent (Cenred likes to ride him so) and the world is: Cenred's head dipping down and him exhaling with his mouth wide open; the space between their bodies that won't be there for long; a silky lock falls over a bare strong shoulder. So slow, so slow, he wraps his arm around Cenred's waist and wastes his breath in the closed space between them. Aredian's hips then snap, and then again and a-gain and a-gain and _again_ and a g a i n ( _aaah, ah-Aredian,_ ); Cenred has a virginal, no, rather, _primal_ reaction to penetrative sex? At first. Shameless about his pleasure, he lets himself be fucked, and his guttural moans fill the room. His hands seek, knead Aredian's shoulders (and then Cenred is conscious again and does the thing with the whip-like movement of his spine and his ass, then Aredian's the one who's moaning and growling _Cenred, you little..._ ).

                (one time he came prematurely like a boy and he had been so embarrassed, the memories are flooding his mind now, and he couldn't even pretend it had been intentional, but Cenred had just smiled, and had pushed him back and kissed and touched him with all the patience in the world until he was hard again and oh, they had some _fun_ then but still so embarrassed, so _terribly, endlessly embarrassed about it still_ )

                The way he rests his forehead against Cenred's shoulder, the one with the lock of hair, and tries to concentrate on movement alone but it's **_hard_** ; Cenred is always restless right before he comes, and his hands distract a lot; but mostly they hold on and try to close off that initial space between him, the one of first descent.

                The way Aredian clings in a perversely-fatherly way to Cenred's chest. He has to subdue his own need to knead and claw and **abuse** after he has come; and clinging does it for him, hethinks. Cenred never objects; instead he holds him close.

                Again and again Aredian runs his hands up and down Cenred's legs; the hair that covers them is rather thick, wavy-ish _(?)_ , and the way it suddenly ends makes Aredian think of thigh-highs and garters. One day he will suggest it to Cenred and Cenred will probably agree with utmost enthusiasm and oh, _the image of those thighs encircled with lace and that hard cock trapped against his abdomen by impossibly small and tight pink panties_ , Aredian shudders and exhales and pulls Cenred _closer_.

                Showering still holds a novelty. He is used to a wash-and-go routine; but when Cenred is here they have to watch for his hair not to get wet. It's so thick, ruffled and glossy, and _how could Cenred possibly think one could dis-like his hair_? Aredian raises his hand to run his fingers through those wonderful locks and then remembers. He stops himself and cups Cenred's jaw, runs a thumb to feel the scruff. "We're late," he says

                and it breaks his heart.


End file.
